The moment Jason spotted us, he instinctively let go of her hand and walked toward us.
Shairine’s expression faltered for a brief moment, but she quickly composed herself and approached with a smile. “We’re late, and there aren’t any open tables. Would you mind if we joined yours?”
Without waiting for a reply, Jason sat down next to me.
Yves’ eyes widened in surprise, and he quickly stood up, pulling him to switch seats. “What are you thinking? How is it appropriate for me to sit next to her?”
Reluctantly, Jason let himself be nudged into the seat across from me. His eyes carried a hint of displeasure, as if waiting for me to say something.
Avoiding his gaze, I handed the menu to Shairine. “Shairine, why don’t you order what you two would like? My brother and I have already decided.”
She took the menu with a smile, trying to appear natural. “Zoey, the yam and pork rib soup you make is so delicious—much better than anything sold outside.”
Her words confirmed my suspicion. The soup Jason asked me to make was for her.
I smiled faintly but said nothing.